


Baby's First Murder

by tiamat100



Category: Tales To Be Told - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alcoholism, Gen, Permanent Major Character Death, parental neglect (not explicit i guess), pre-mechs, spoilers for DTTM, written in a burst of inspiration at midnight so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiamat100/pseuds/tiamat100
Summary: When Johnny Vangelis tried to run away from home for the first time, he didn't get further than the end of the road till he was dragged back home.When he tried again, fifteen years old and desperate for a fresh place where he wouldn't be judged by his father's sins, he made it off-world to a nameless asteroid where nobody would recognise him.Not as funny as the title makes it sound (not funny at all tbh) but I didn't have any better title ideas.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Baby's First Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, implied patricide. Also gore, violence, blood, major character death, murder, assaulting a child, child endangerment. Suicidal ideation (canon-typical), Suicide (unintentional).  
> If you're not sure if it'd be okay to read, feel free to message me for details.  
> (also I know nothing about formatting and there's a bit that should be in italics but isn't because of it).

When Johnny Vangelis tried to run away from home for the first time, he didn't get further than the end of the road till he was dragged back home. 

When he tried again, fifteen years old and desperate for a fresh place where he wouldn't be judged by his father's sins, he made it offworld. 

He went to a bar. It felt odd to go somewhere so familiar, but after hiding in the cargo of a merchant ship, he had to get out when they sold off their stock. 

Besides, this bar wasn't like any of the bars back home. For one thing, Johnny's father wasn't holding court telling his tall tales as a tiny Johnny sat in the corner with a dusty glass of water and a tattered book. Neither was he slumped over a table in the back, stinking of liquor and his own sweat, with Johnny having to half carry him home and swear to pay his tab with his next paycheck.  
It wasn't one of the bars too busy to notice a teenager sneaking in, or one that would throw him out immediately - not because of his age, but because he was clearly too poor to buy their products or even attempt to bribe them into letting him stay.  
It wasn't filled with the same old New Texan crowds, all so familiar. 

No, this was an offworld bar. The rock it was built on didn't have a name or even a legal settlement. This was a place for deals in the dark and people passing through, doing business that they'd wash their hands of the moment they'd finished their drinks.

Johnny loved it. He wasn't scared, no matter if some of the grizzled looking customers jeered at him. No matter if he was surrounded by people who looked tough enough to squash him if he stepped out of line. No matter how wildly his heart was beating or how beads of sweat formed on his brow.  
He could handle it. He squared his shoulders, meeting the strangers jeers with a glower and moving on. 

He didn't start the fight. A tall redheaded woman bought him a drink ("To welcome you to a new beginning," she'd said, an odd look on her face that Johnny didn't care to decipher). He was at the bar, sipping at a whisky he wasn't sure he actually liked, when chaos broke out around him. 

Before he could react, there were shouts, thuds, punches thrown and he froze for a moment as different memories crashed around him. Then someone grabbed him, tossed him off the barstool, and as he hit the ground both his left arm and the glass he was still holding cracked. 

Johnny tried to duck away, but being down was too dangerous. Feet were everywhere, there was a liquid in his eyes that seemed strangely red for sweat, and someone was coming at him with a knife, cackling-  
The crack in Johnny's whisky glass(now empty) spread, till the glass split into numerous parts. The stranger came towards him and Johnny saw his knife carve red lines in two others before stabbing towards him. 

Johnny, fifteen years old, terrified, and holding a sharp, broken piece of glass, stabbed outwards. 

The glass shouldn't have been able to stab the man's skin. It certainly shouldn't have had enough strength behind it to pierce the stranger's heart. 

There was an odd sound, like glass hitting metal, and the man's eyes widened. 

"Finally," He whispered, voice hoarse but eager. He grinned and, to Johnny's horror, pulled himself upright. 

"Just for that, kid, I'll let you live. Oh. Finally." He cackled. "I'm finally gonna die! You killed me, kid. Killed the unkillable-" 

He staggered, falling down with a painful gasp, somehow still sounding excited. 

"Yes!" He called jubilantly, spitting out blood even as the dark liquid coated his chest. "Yes!" 

As Johnny stared in horror, the fight almost seemed to calm around then. People were staring-the dying stranger was pulling out a gun-  
A heavy hand fell on Johnny's shoulder, pulling at him, dragging him from the man he had killed, but he wasn't dead yet but even Johnny could see that he soon would be. Johnny didn't resist. 

As he was pulled from the bar, he heard the excited shout of the man he'd stabbed.  
"If I'm finally gonna die, I'm taking as many of you fuckers as I can with me!" 

Johnny didn't remember being bundled into a ship. The next moment he was aware of, he was sitting in a small ship, strapped in tight next to One Eyed Jack.  
He started, panicking- Jack knew him everyone would know the police would come, Johnny would end up in prison and how would he ever escape then - but Jack simply said, cool as you please,  
"Calmed down yet, boy?" 

Johnny didn't answer.  
"Lucky I was there to pull you out of trouble. We'll get you back home and to your father." Jack grinned. "Add saving you from jail to the list of things he owes me." 

Johnny didn't answer. Suddenly questions were swirling in his brain and every one of them seemed exhausting. His breath came quickly, too quickly, and he tried to raise his hands to his face. One of his arms sparked with pain that made it impossible to move, while the other hand…  
The other hand was covered in blood.

He let out an entirely involuntary sound, somewhere between a sob and a whimper, and Jack sighed and flipped a switch on the panel in front of him. Then, without a word, Jack produced a dirty rag and began scrubbing at Johnny's hands, rubbing the blood harshly off and seemingly taking half Johnny's skin with it.Johnny tried to pull away, gasping with the pain but Jack was stronger than a weedy fifteen year old. He was only a fraction more gentle with Johnny’s broken arm, not seeming moved by the tears in the teenager’s eyes.

"There." He said brusquely. "Hands are still red, but at least any blood'll look like it's yours, huh?"  
Any blood left after Jack's harsh scrubbing probably was Johnny's, but he didn't think it wise to say so. 

Jack dropped Johnny off home in the early hours of the morning. His father sent him to bed, and despite his exhaustion Johnny lay awake, hearing the muffled argument from below and seeing again and again the blood that had covered his hands. Hearing the strange laughter of the man he'd killed. 

Years later, with the knowledge of those blood red hands dangled over him by Jack, Johnny told himself it was the only sensible decision, even if it broke a part of him to do it. 

He didn't recognise the tall redheaded woman who saved him, and he didn't remember the face of the stranger he had killed. Only the blood coating his chest and that terrible, jubilant laugh.


End file.
